When I Found You by Brenda Novak
Twenty-Five
Natasha rushed to the police station. She couldn’t let her mother confess without first speaking to an attorney. Anya should at least have some counsel.
But by the time she parked haphazardly and ran in, it was too late. Anya had already been taken into custody.
“Can I see her?” Natasha asked Officer Howton, who’d been on the force back when she lived here. She recognized him, even though he’d lost most of his hair since she’d last seen him and his smile lines had deepened dramatically.
“I might be able to arrange that,” he said, but when he came back to where she waited in a small lobby, separated from him by a thick shield of bulletproof glass, he was wearing a frown. “I’m sorry. She says you’ve done enough for her and you should go home.”
“What does that mean?” Natasha asked.
He adjusted his gun belt as though it was cinched too tight and spoke through the small opening designed to make communication easier. “I’m afraid she doesn’t want to see you.”
“Seriously?”
He looked even more uncomfortable. “She said there’s nothing more you can do for her, and she’s done enough in her life to drag you down.”
“But...but she doesn’t even have an attorney.”
“The court will appoint one for her unless—” he lifted his eyebrows expectantly “—you prefer to hire someone?”
Natasha considered her empty bank account. The only reason she’d been able to come to town in the first place was because of Mack. “I’ll look into it,” she mumbled and left, feeling numb.
What did she do now? Call Mack and his brothers and tell them they no longer had to worry about her mother escaping justice?
She was upset enough that she was tempted to let them continue to worry. But that was a purely emotional reaction. It was reasonable that they’d want justice. If J.T. had shot Anya, she’d feel the same. So she created a group text and sent a message to them all at once:
My mother just confessed and turned herself in. Thought you’d want to know. I hope your father is going to be okay.
She expected Grady to be the first to reply. He should be elated, she thought bitterly. But it was Mack. I’m so sorry. Are you okay?
What hurt the most was that her mother was finally showing some signs of maturation, enough that Natasha was tempted to believe they might’ve been able to have a real relationship one day. She’d never been able to respect her mother, but she respected this decision.
Still, she had to be fair.
If Mom pulled that trigger, she deserves what’s coming. I understand that. I just wish she could remember doing it. That would make this easier on both of us.
Dylan: What’s happened sucks all the way around. Thanks for letting us know.
Rod: More bullshit for you to go through, Tash. I’m sorry she did this.
Aaron: Hang in there, little one. You’re a tough chick. You’ve always been a tough chick.
Little one. He used to call her that when she was in high school, and because she’d found it condescending and patronizing and wanted to be considered an equal—so that Mack would treat her like a viable option—it’d made her fighting mad. Aaron used to do it on purpose, just to set her off so they could all have a good laugh, but it had become an endearment, a fond memory, and it brought tears to her eyes to see it today.
Surprisingly, she didn’t receive anything from Grady. Unable to resist, she wrote: Grady? Aren’t you happy? You got what you wanted.
When no one answered, she felt small-minded and petty after they’d been so supportive.
Sorry, she wrote. My bad.
Then, because she didn’t feel as though she could be trusted with a phone right now, she powered it down and returned to Little Mary’s, where she spoke to the day manager to see what she owed on the room and when she needed to vacate it. She was hoping she wouldn’t have to drive back to Silver Springs right away—she didn’t think she had the fortitude to make the long drive—and was relieved to learn the room had been prepaid until tomorrow.
What would she have done without Mack?
“Thank you,” she said politely and somehow managed to climb the stairs even though her legs suddenly felt like lead weights. All she wanted to do was go back to bed. She figured she had a lot of missed sleep to catch up on. Maybe by morning her mother would change her mind about seeing her and she’d at least be able to say goodbye and promise to stay in touch.
When Mack couldn’t reach Natasha, he left the hospital and went out to find her. He was afraid she’d already left for Silver Springs and didn’t want her to drive unless she was feeling up to it. She’d been under so much stress for so long she looked like a strong breeze would blow her over.
Fortunately, he found her car parked at Little Mary’s.
Taking the slot next to her Jetta, he went in and approached the front desk, suddenly glad he’d been the one to pay for the room. Otherwise, the manager wouldn’t be able to give him any information.
“Is everything okay?” Doris asked when she saw him.
Mack recognized her from when she’d brought her Lincoln SUV into the shop to have a dent buffed out of the door before her husband could get home from deer hunting and see that she’d hit a telephone pole. “I think so. Why?”
Had she heard about Natasha’s mother shooting his father? Did she know who Natasha and Anya were? An article had appeared in the local paper this morning. Maybe she’d seen it and recognized Anya.
“Ms. Gray didn’t look too well when she came in a while ago,” she replied. “I tried to bring her a tray with some tea and biscuits, but she never answered the door.”
“I’ll check on her,” he said. “Can I get a key?”
“Of course. You’re on the room.”
A moment later, he took the stairs two at a time.
He knocked, but when he didn’t get an answer, he didn’t hesitate to let himself in.
The drapes had been pulled. After the brightness of the afternoon sun streaming in the windows downstairs, he couldn’t see anything until his eyes adjusted to the darkness. Then he could make out a small figure in the bed on the right.
“Tash?” he murmured.
She lifted her head. “What are you doing here?” She sounded both groggy and surprised, as if she’d been sleeping too soundly to hear the door. He almost felt guilty for waking her.
“I was worried about you.”
“How’s your father?”
“We still don’t know.”
“Go back to the hospital. I’m okay,” she said and dropped her head back on the pillow, but he wasn’t going to leave her. She meant more to him than J.T. did. She meant more to him than anyone did.
He kicked off his shoes, climbed into bed and pulled her into his arms. When he realized she wasn’t wearing much, he wished he’d taken off his clothes, too. He wanted to feel her skin next to his. But he didn’t do anything to change that; he didn’t want her to think he’d come for something else.
She didn’t make a sound, but he knew she was crying when he felt teardrops soak through his shirt.
Natasha didn’t know how long she’d been sleeping. It felt like several hours. But when she woke up, she could tell Mack was awake, too. Having his arms around her made her feel completely different—better, oddly satisfied, despite everything, as though she would survive the nadir of her life and be just fine.
When she turned to face him and lifted a hand to touch his cheek, he hauled her closer.
“You get enough sleep?” he murmured as they entwined their legs. “I’m so worried about you.”
“I’ll be fine.” She didn’t add that having him with her made a huge difference. She wasn’t going to put any pressure on him. She’d been disappointed about the paternity test, but the one good thing that came out of it was that she could rest assured that obligation would never be the basis of whatever relationship they had.
“We’ll get through this.”
She didn’t respond. She wasn’t in the mood to talk. She just wanted to feel him—everywhere.
Once she’d unbuttoned his shirt, he slipped out of it and tossed it on the floor. But he caught her hand when she unfastened his shorts. “I know you must feel like shit. We don’t have to do this.”
Except that this was how she planned to feel better. She was going to take advantage of every minute they had together before she returned to Silver Springs and left him in Whiskey Creek, to stockpile as many memories as possible to sustain her in the coming months. “I want to feel you inside me,” she said simply.
Her response was all the encouragement he needed. He removed his shorts while she peeled off her panties. When their bare chests touched, she closed her eyes and wished she could capture and hold that sensation forever.
He was extra gentle in the way he touched her and kissed her, and when he rolled her beneath him, it seemed as though he was more interested in the shared experience, the togetherness, than anything else.
Neither of them spoke as they began to make love. They touched and tasted and simply enjoyed the intimacy. They were growing so familiar with each other in a physical sense, after knowing each other and caring about each other for so long in an emotional sense, that sex only built a stronger bond. Because she couldn’t get over him, she knew she was probably making a mistake, but she couldn’t deny herself right now.
“What is it?” she asked when he paused and smoothed the hair from her face.
“You’re so beautiful. I can’t believe I’m lucky enough to have another chance.”
This frightened her. She didn’t want to get her hopes up only to be disappointed again. “Who said you have another chance?” she asked, leery.
He pinned her hands above her head as he began to move in a more deliberate way, with powerful thrusts that also felt slightly possessive. “Are you going to turn me away?”
“I have to,” she replied. “You’re not wearing a condom.” She was avoiding the real question by making it about this very moment and not their relationship as a whole, but he didn’t call her on that. Neither did he withdraw.
“I don’t care.”
She tightened her grip on his hands. “About making a baby?”
“You don’t know it yet?”
“Know what?”
He gave her a long, slow kiss. “I’m going to marry you.”
“Oh, you are,” she said. He’d never promised this before, but she was still afraid to trust it. What if his father died and the coming trial of her mother tore them apart? What if his brothers freaked out and made him choose them or her? What if the childhood trauma of finding his mother dead in her bed made real commitment impossible for him?
“Yep. It’s true.”
Despite her caution, his words were filling her with hope, and the pleasure he was giving her was also tempting her to believe him. “You’re so sure—” she tried to draw the breath she needed to finish her sentence “—of my answer you’re not even going to ask me?”
He groaned as he drew closer to climax. “You’ve always been the smart one,” he said. “You’ve known all along that we were meant to be together.”
At this, she stopped him. “But...now?” Her words fell to a reverent whisper. “My mother may have killed your father.”
He framed her face with his hands. “That has nothing to do with us.”
“I doubt your brothers will agree.”
“Maybe they won’t. But they’ll accept it, because they’ll have no other choice. I could never be happy without you, Tash.” He pecked the tip of her nose. “I love you. I’ve always loved you.”
Their relationship had been so confusing and hurtful at times. She could tell he felt something, but it never seemed to be enough. “Why now?” she asked.
“You mean why not when we made love seven years ago? I hurt you then. I was so stupid. I let you marry someone else and could’ve lost you for good.” He rested his forehead on hers, and his breath fanned her lips as he spoke. “Can you forgive me? Please?”
She couldn’t hold a grudge against him. That was impossible for her. So she wasn’t even going to pretend. “Of course I forgive you. But...”
“Don’t say ‘but,’” he broke in as he licked his way down her neck.
She continued anyway. “I was just going to say that I can’t think right now. We should probably talk about this after.”
“I like talking about it now, when your defenses are down,” he joked.
She could feel his tongue circle her nipple. “You’re all I’ve ever wanted,” she said before she even realized that she was speaking those words out loud. She hadn’t meant to vocalize what she was thinking. But he was right—at the moment, he had her at a disadvantage.
“I’m happy to hear that.” His teeth flashed as he smiled. “So about making a baby...”
Orgasm was inching closer, making it even more difficult to think objectively. “Baby?” she gasped. “You want a baby?”
“Why not? I turned forty-one this year. I’m getting up there.”
She wasn’t opposed to having another child. Not with Mack. But... “I don’t think it would be smart,” she said.
Obviously disappointed, he stopped. “Why not?”
“Because if I get pregnant, you won’t be able to change your mind about me. You’ll feel too obligated.” There. She’d blurted that out, too—exactly what she was thinking—and held her breath as she awaited his reaction.
“I’m not going to change my mind, Tash,” he said earnestly. “I’ll never give you any reason to doubt my love again. I’m finally where I should’ve been seven years ago—ready to flip off the whole world, if necessary, and love you no matter what.”
This was complete surrender. Had it been anything else, she would’ve argued that it was too soon to talk about something as life altering and permanent as a child together. But she’d been in love with Mack for fifteen years, so it felt more like it wasn’t soon enough.
She brought his face down to hers for a long, deep kiss. “Okay,” she said as she exhaled and let him take them both the rest of the way.
“I don’t know if this is a good idea.” Natasha smoothed her sundress as she got out of Mack’s truck and looked dubiously at the hospital.
Mack hit the lock button on his key fob, took her hand and pulled her toward the entrance. “It’ll be fine,” he said, but he wasn’t completely convinced that was true. He had no idea how Grady, in particular, might react to seeing Natasha. He only knew he was no longer going to let that or anything else get in his way. Why it took him so long to get to this point, he didn’t know. He remembered how sick it had made him when he heard that Natasha was getting married, how he’d struggled for years to bury the pain and the loss, and how he couldn’t help hanging on every word Dylan received from her. Mack had even secretly collected the pictures she’d sent of her and her son, had them all saved on his phone.
He supposed part of his reluctance to get together with her was that he’d dubbed her off-limits for so long and then tried so hard to remain circumspect about the fact that their parents were once married. And when she came back to town and he ran into her during Victorian Days, he felt guilty for letting it turn physical, as though he’d betrayed his brothers and what they’d set out to do where she was concerned.
Now he was finally just willing to accept reality. He was almost a decade older than she was, and they’d met in an unconventional way, but they were in love. It was that simple. He wished Lucas was his son. But Mack wanted to be part of his life regardless. What he’d said to Dylan when Dylan found out Kellan wasn’t his had meant something to him, too. It was love that mattered, not genetics.
“Maybe I should take the truck back to Little Mary’s,” she said, her steps slowing as they drew closer. “I can pick you up later, whenever you call me.”
He scowled. “Quit being a little chicken.”
She scowled right back at him. “I’m not a chicken. I’m being sensitive to the situation.”
He ignored the proffered euphemism. “You haven’t done anything wrong. There’s no reason you can’t be here.”
The automatic doors opened with a whoosh, and he felt her fingers, which were threaded through his, tighten. “I feel bad for you and your brothers,” she said. “I really do. For your dad, too. But I also feel defensive of my mother. She was high when she did what she did. I know that’s no excuse, not in a normal situation. But your father’s an abuser, too. It could easily have been him who shot her.”
Mack led her toward the elevators. “And your point is...”
“It wasn’t as if she purposely set out to kill him. She doesn’t even remember it.”
He let his gaze slide over to her. “She left town afterward.”
She pulled away from him. “She was scared.”
He understood. Anya was her mother. Of course she’d feel some sympathy for her. Natasha’s split loyalties put her in an unenviable situation. But he was willing to bet what she’d said wouldn’t go over very well with his brothers. “I get it. Just...don’t say that while we’re here and we might be okay.”
She chuckled at his response. “I’m sorry. Sometimes I’m a little too honest.”
He put his arm around her and drew her back to his side. “No worries. I love you, warts and all,” he added with a grin.
She tried to elbow him, but he purposely held her too close to allow it, and they laughed as he punched the elevator button. He’d never been happier, couldn’t believe that he’d finally made peace with his heart—and with her. He’d meant it when he said they’d get through this. She was the most important thing to him. He’d no longer let anything get in the way of being with her.
As they stepped into the long corridor on the third floor, he took her hand again. “For the first little bit, maybe you’d better let me do the talking.”
“Be my guest,” she said. “I—”
She fell silent as soon as she looked up and saw Dylan and Rod coming toward them.
Mack braced himself for the encounter. He knew his brothers would feel a little funny about him being with Natasha in a romantic sense. They’d always pressured him to stay away from her in that way. But he was no longer going to worry about that, and they needed to get used to the change. He and Natasha could already have a baby on the way; he hoped they did. “Hey. How’s Dad?”
Dylan didn’t seem all that surprised, but Rod’s eyes widened as he took in their clasped hands.
“Doing better,” Dylan replied.
Mack knew Natasha was eager to hear their father’s prognosis. The better J.T. did, the greater the chance of her mother getting out of this mess with a minimal sentence. But she didn’t say anything. “In what way?”
“Vital signs are improving. No more problems with his lung. They moved him out of ICU a few minutes ago and into another room.”
“I got your text on that. Thanks.” Mack hoped that bit of good news, together with the knowledge that Anya had turned herself in, would be enough to get Grady to relax. “Where’re you guys going?”
“To grab a bite to eat,” Rod said. “Would you two like to join us?”
“No, we’ll get something in an hour or so. Dad alone?”
“Aaron and Grady are there.” Dylan caught Natasha’s eye. “Thanks for the text about your mother. Are you okay?”
“I think so,” she said.
Rod pointed to their clasped hands. “This is moving fast. Does it mean what I think it does?”
Mack lifted Natasha’s hand and kissed her knuckles. “Yep.”
“Took you long enough,” Dylan joked.
Mack laughed. “I can be a little slow.”
“Not to mention stubborn,” Natasha added, which made Dylan and Rod laugh.
After his brothers said goodbye and got on the elevator, Mack kissed Natasha’s hand again. “Two down, two to go.”
“We don’t have to do this right now,” Natasha said.
“Why not?”
“Because it might be easier on Grady if I’m not here.”
“I’ve already told him we’re going to be together,” he said and looked for the placard on the wall that would direct them to Room 301.
